


Yesterday & Today (A TOKIO Collection)

by tsuristyle



Category: TOKIO
Genre: DASH Village, Dankichi the Solar Car, Gen, Knitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 13:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuristyle/pseuds/tsuristyle
Summary: TOKIO drabbles and one-shots, 2010 to 2011.Underground (447 words, G) - Bittersweet Leader+Gussan, in the DASH village.Skin Deep (243 words, G) - More bittersweet Leader+Gussan, in the Solar Car.Yesterday & Today (1,058 words, G) - TOKIO knit a sweater for their Leader.





	1. Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Written June 2010.)

They'd gotten a call about it in the late morning, a staff member relaying the news from the village: one of the young goat brothers had passed away. It was sudden and unexpected, but it wasn't urgent enough to warrant a space in a full schedule, and so when Joshima and Tatsuya finally arrived there was already a small stone marker resting quietly in the hillside woods. Sei nodded to them from his daily chores, not quite meeting their eyes.  
  
They waited for the cameraman to get into place and check the sound, and watched as Sei paid his respects in front of the little stone. And then it was their turn; Tatsuya knelt, the eye of the camera trained on him, and couldn't think of anything to say. Next to him, Joshima breathed out heavily, and then they stood awkwardly and followed Sei back to the village to start the day's work.  
  
Tatsuya was just wrapping up his chores, the last of the daylight stretching thin across the sky, when one of the staff came jogging over. "Have you seen Joshima? The van's going to arrive soon."  
  
None of the cameramen had seen where his bandmate had gone. "I'll find him," Tatsuya reassured the worried staff, and set off across the fields.  
  
Sure enough, as he rounded the back of the shed, the door to the hillside storage cellar was slightly ajar. He slipped inside, his eyes adjusting to the dim light; Joshima was sitting against the far wall, next to the pile of empty rice husks preserving the yams they'd harvested that year.  
  
"Gussan," his bandmate said quietly. He scooped up a handful of the rice husks, letting them trickle through his fingers. "Everything seems to be fine here."  
  
Tatsuya crouched in the entranceway, waiting. Joshima watched his own fingers distractedly, brushing at the remaining husks with his thumb.  
  
"Sei cried," he said finally. He was silent again for a while, frowning at his hand. "I don't know how to react. I want to cry, but I can't."  
  
Tatsuya crawled over and sat next to him, pressing their shoulders together. He hadn't cried either. "You can't force it."  
  
Joshima nodded wordlessly, letting the last of the rice husks slide from his hand. He tilted his head back, and they leaned against the wall together in silence, the coolness of the earth slowly seeping into their backs. The air was completely still, muffling the sounds of the outside world, stirring only for their slow, steady breaths.  
  
"I'd like to live here someday," the older man murmured, too soft to be meant for anyone but himself. But together in that quiet, calm space, Tatsuya heard him anyway.


	2. Skin Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Written August 2010.)

They're in the solar car, on their way again after having somehow discovered a local mud bath-- which had naturally led to an impromptu 'Joshima beauty spa' session-- and now Tatsuya is driving for once. He's hoping to catch sight of the ocean again before nightfall.  
  
Next to him, Joshima sighs contentedly and runs his hands along his arms. "Ahh, that was actually pretty nice. I feel a little younger already." His hands unconsciously drift to his face. "I wonder if it'll have any effect."  
  
Tatsuya doesn't have to look over to see the lines in his bandmate's face; he's watched them form over the years they've spent together, through all the laughter and frustration and tears. And frankly, despite all the skin care and anti-aging techniques out there, when it comes to Joshima it just seems silly, because Joshima is one of the most beautiful people he knows. There are twenty years of memories in those lines; why would anyone want to erase them?  
  
He can't exactly say that to his bandmate, though. "I think you look fine the way you are, you know."  
  
Joshima is quiet for a moment, looking out the window at the trees rushing by. "It's too bad I can't marry you, then," he says finally, laughing.  
  
Tatsuya laughs with him. He can't quite find anything to say in response, but he can't help but think that, after twenty years, there may not be much of a difference.


	3. Yesterday & Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Written May 2011.)

Matsuoka pedals his foot in rhythm, the wheel spinning to his measured beat. Like a bass drum responding to the lightest touch. Somewhere to his left, Joshima makes yet another distressed noise, wheel stuttering in syncopation; Matsuoka isn't sure whether to sigh or smile.  
_  
They've been practicing the same song, over and over. He keeps speeding up. He knows because Yamaguchi will glance up sharply, low notes trying to pull back against the tide, but by then he's already half a beat ahead and they have to stop.  
  
"More time with the metronome," Yamaguchi advises, unslinging his guitar for a quick break. He's sick of the song, and so is Matsuoka. But on his other side, Joshima simply nods, his fingers running over the melody line again, pulling at this note and that distractedly. The notes twist and shape until the line morphs into something else entirely, something that shimmers in the air with a life of its own-- a song spinning like thread out of the older boy's thoughts. _  
  
"Ah-- darn it..." The wheel to his left slows, his soon-to-be-forty bandmate fumbling to catch a wispy tail of too-thin yarn. Matsuoka glances over and laughs at the older man's expression; it's just as well they aren't going to have him do any of the knitting, or the sweater would never be finished in time.  
  
"Try not to ruin _all_ the yarn, Leader," he calls over, but he can hear the smile in his own voice, and he concentrates on the rhythm again, calm and steady.  
  
~  
  
Nagase looks up from his handiwork to admire the ocean. He's in Okinawa, sitting on a rock by the sea while knitting a sweater for his bandmate. This is totally awesome. Seriously, he is so hardcore right now. All he needs is a beer-- oops, almost dropped a loop there.  
  
_"Please?"  
  
The older boy stops picking at his guitar, muffling the strings with the flat of his hand. "Are you sure you really want to learn? It's not easy."  
  
Nagase does his best impression of a puppy. He's absolutely sick of the tambourine. "I'm sure. Please? I'll even pay you if you want."  
  
Joshima laughs. "Okay, okay, if you're that serious." He lifts the guitar over his head and holds it out. Nagase takes it reverently; the feel of smooth wood under his fingers is almost intoxicating.  
  
"Now," the older boy says, like a stern older brother. "Do you know what a chord is?"_  
  
Nagase looks down at the sleeve he's knitting. It's almost done. He kind of wishes his bandmate had longer arms, so he could keep working on it a little longer.  
  
...Nah, he's ready for that beer after all.  
  
~  
  
Taichi sets the needles down carefully and flexes his fingers. His hands ache, not the comfortable ache of hours of practice, but a new, unfamiliar stiffness. He stretches his arms over his head, yawning, and looks doubtfully at the slow progress he's made so far. He's definitely not suited to this kind of work.  
  
_He can't concentrate. He's been staring at the script for an hour but all the guests and conversation topics are simply blurring together in his head, and the only thing clear in his mind is the sad little smile she'd given him as she'd left. How could someone be so sad and so determined at the same time?  
  
The lead snaps on the mechanical pencil he's using, and Joshima looks up from across the table. The older man sets his book down. "Let's go practice," he suggests quietly.  
  
They play anything and everything until Taichi's head is full of scales and chords, his shoulders relaxing as his hands flow over the keys. Everything else becomes a distant, separate world, and Taichi has space to breathe again.  
  
Across the room, his bandmate smiles a little, but doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. _  
  
Next to him, Taichi hears Yamaguchi make a faint noise of frustration, but the older man doesn't pause for a break. He's determined to see the project through to the end. Taichi stretches once more, and picks up the needles again.  
  
~  
  
Push needle through loop. Wrap yarn around needle. Go through loop again and turn stitch.  
  
Tatsuya squints at his fingers, concentrating fiercely. Through loop, around needle, turn stitch. Was it clockwise or counter-clockwise, again? Clockwise? No, that doesn't look right. Through, around, turn. The lumpy yarn snags on itself and tries to unwind into two, creating a momentary tangle of confusion. Dammit, he's supposed to be _good_ at this sort of thing.  
_  
"Shige? It's Tatsuya." The street outside the public phone is dark. He cradles the receiver against his ear, straining as if it will help him hear the brightly-lit room on the other end. "Can I come over?"  
  
"Eh? Now? It's awfully late..."  
  
"I had a fight with my parents." His eyes hurt. He doesn't want to deal with this, he has enough to worry about. His voice wavers, all pretense of strength falling apart. "Shige, I want to leave home."_  
  
Through, around, turn. He's almost done.  
  
He wonders what Joshima's expression will be like when he gives him the sweater, when he hears that the four of them worked together in secret to make it for him. They don't talk about what Tokio is to them, not with each other, but even without speaking they know how much it ties them together. It weaves them together into something stronger, something that can't be unraveled.  
  
_Joshima makes him tea, and somehow between the lack of extra bedding and the lump in Tatsuya's throat they end up sharing the bed. Tatsuya stares up at the dim ceiling, trying not to bump Joshima's back with his arm. It's strange not to be able to hear his parents' muffled snoring in the distance._  
  
_"This is the worst time to ask," Tatsuya says quietly. "But... could I have a hug?"_  
  
_Joshima doesn't say anything for a moment and Tatsuya wonders if he's crossed an uncomfortable line or if his bandmate has simply fallen asleep. But then the older boy turns and a pair of arms wrap awkwardly around him, and to his surprise Joshima presses his forehead against the side of Tatsuya's head._  
  
_"Don't worry, we're in a band now." Tatsuya can hear him smile. "It's just another kind of family, isn't it?"_


End file.
